dwell in the house of tomorrow
by Mooky-aron
Summary: In truth that which you call freedom is the strongest of these chains, though its links glitter in the sun and dazzle your eyes. Izuku never expected to see the sun again, not as a free man and certainly not like this. But glancing down at his sleeping pack, eyes growing heavy- he thinks he could get used to this. OR The au where Izuku is a rescued and recovering omega.


_You shall be free indeed when your days are not without a care nor your nights without a want and a grief,_

 _But rather when these things girdle your life and yet you rise above them naked and unbound_.

Ochako almost ignores it, her mind intent on the papers in her hand as she heads to the office— but the brilliant green hair catches her eye as she hurries across the grassy courtyard. It's summer, the shimmer of heat casting mirages across the hot concrete and the omega in the courtyard is laid out on the grass, ignoring the nearby tables and chairs placed for convenience.

The thin man, at least that's what Ochako's nose relays to her, seemingly basks in the warmth of the summer sun- Ochako can already feel the heat of the day getting to her, sweat sliding under her collar. He reminds her of a feline, dark-green hair shining like an oil spill in the sun, like a cat napping on a fence post. He's still clothed in the default clinic outfit, the loose fitting white cotton garments the omegas wear during their first few days at the clinic.

She remembers them well, recalls them being the softest things she'd ever felt against her skin in years. Until they gave her the set of clothes she decided on, the soft pink sweater sliding against her skin like an embrace- until she'd learned to live with the skeletons in her closet. Before she became a hero.

She thinks he's asleep- something in her urges to check on him but her arms are aching with the weight of the folders stacked in her hands. She deliberates for half a moment over the sleeping figure, and lets her feet carry her off to the main office instead. If she remembers correctly, Iida is working at the office today and he may be able to shed some light on the newcomer. It's getting harder to move around now, the weight of her belly often restricting her movement- not to mention how often she has to scamper off to the bathroom in a hurry.

It's her self-assigned duty, after all. She knows all the omegas at the clinic, buys birthday gifts and has coached many of them through the same things she struggled with. She can't help the newcomer if she doesn't know who he is, can she?

Iida takes one glance at her face as she hands him the stack of folders, seeing something in her expression that makes him sigh deeply and reach for a manila folder on his desk.

"There's his folder. Just..." the dark haired alpha sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his glasses usually sit. "it's a tough case, okay?Just take care of yourself. The higher ups already cleared you to look at his folder, so at least I'm not breaking any rules for you _again."_ Ochako blushes at the emphasis, free hand scratching the back of her head sheepishly.

"Iiiiida-kun," she whines in embarrassment," it was _one_ time and she really needed my help! And they didn't even dock you at all! _Aaand_ I've already apologised like- a million times!"

Iida fixes her with a look that tells her that the same excuses won't fly again and again. She grins and flaps a hand in a cheeky salute. "Thank you Iida-kun!"

The sigh that follows her out the door is equal parts exasperated and fond.

—

Twenty minutes later, a pale faced Ochako returns the folder with a grim smile. Most people would say she looked shocked— Iida can see the gritty determination to help the newcomer woven into the edges of her smile.

"Ochako, you don't have to help everyone. Sometimes- Sometimes it's just too much, and you've got pups on the way. It isn't your job to-" Ochako holds up a hand, interrupting Iida mid thought. She _knows_ it isn't her job, her place or her responsibility— she knows. But she can see this omega hurting, feel it in the area around his sleeping pose and the way he tucks himself into a small space to rest— she knows because she was once like that. Sometimes, kindness was the only solution Ochako had to offer and maybe, just this once, it would be enough.

"I can do this. I _will_ do this." Her smile widens, and a slight gleam twinges at the edge of her eye. "Besides, who knows what he's gone through better than me, after all?"

—

The omega with hair the same shade as the tree casting shadows is still laying in the courtyard, though his eyes have fluttered open and he stares far into the sky. The sunlight shines across those eyes, refracting into a myriad of colours— Ochako is reminded of the sun shining off the dew on wildflowers as dawn progressed onto noon.

She sits down nearby, plops the two takeaway cups of hot chocolate between them and clears her throat, steeling herself as those bright green eyes shift from the sky to meet her own. "Hi, you're Izuku-chan, right?"

The omega stares at her wide-eyed, seemingly startled and Ochako mentally turns down the dial of cheer from 'retina destroying' all the way down to 'bubbly'. "Hah, sorry. Iida-kun always tells me I come on too strong sometimes. I'm Uraraka Ochako! I'm one of the aides here, unofficially, and I went through the system a few years ago!" She grins, cheeks wide and she almost sees the other omega beginning to relax. He shifts to his knees, long hair carefully shifted out of his eyes and he smiles, a tiny little thing.

It's progress though- Ochako knows to celebrate every little breakthrough as they come.

"Here, this is for you. I already cleared it with the clinic, a little bit of sugar isn't gonna harm you. Plus, between you and me," She leans forwards just a tiny fraction, hides her mouth with a hand and grins, "we all know the food here is atrocious. Healthy but…" Ochako makes a purposefully exaggerated expression of disgust— and it's not entirely faked. The food was healthy, nutritious— and so, so _bland._

As Izuku leans forwards, eyes cautiously trained on her face, the neckline of his shirt dips down across his shoulder and Ochako can't hold in the shocked noise that escapes her, somewhere between a squeak and a gasp. His shoulder is littered with bite marks- a patchwork years in the making, new and old scars indistinguishable from each other, a trail of discoloured marks that trail towards his collarbones and up the expanse of his throat. One has only just begun to heal, the telltale redness and swelling of a recent mating bite stretched across the junction of his shoulder and neck.

The noise startles him, as his hands clutch the cup and his eyes shut reflexively, as if expecting a blow.

Ochako curses at herself, waits until those green eyes flicker open again and she smiles apologetically and rubs the back of her head. "S-sorry, Izuku-chan! I didn't mean to startle you, are you okay now?"

She blinks as green eyes the shade of clover watch her face, the silence stretching until it becomes stilted and uncomfortable. He searches for something in her face, and seemingly without a second thought, nods quickly and shoots her a frail smile. "A-a… I'm fine… Uraraka-san."

His voice reflects his demeanour— it's reedy, thickened slightly with the rough tang of apprehension and she strains to hear it even in the quiet area the courtyard provides. But he spoke- voluntarily responded to something that wasn't essential, that could've been answered with a nod or a shake. Ochako loves little signs of progress, even the infinitesimal ones that slide below the spotlight.

"That's good to hear- oh!" She rifles through her pockets, bringing out several slightly crumpled sugar packets. "I didn't know if you liked it sweet, so I grabbed enough for both of us!" She places the paper sachets in the 'neutral' zone in the grass between them. She pours one into her drink, swirling the cup ever so slightly to let the sugar dissolve. "I like mine super sweet, helps keep me awake and alert!"

She glances away as he sips his drink, directs her eyes up to the clear sky and relaxes, lets her arms take the strain off her legs and sighs as her legs thank her for the relief.

She turns to grab a sugar packet, just to drive her sugar high a little higher- and finds Izuku staring at the way her belly curves, something like wonder on his eyes. Ochako's thoughts turn immediately to the case file she'd poured through before coming out here, the clinical sheet with crosses through checkboxes.

 _Primary Gender: Male_

 _Secondary gender: Omega_

 _Quirk classification: Offensive, level 3, moderate fire manipulation/creation. Patient shows signs of quirk repression and/or tampering. Further drug testing in fatty-tissues needed._

 _Heat status: delayed due to pregnancy- patient wishes to allow full-term. Second trimester, patient shows signs of progressive injury in perineal area._

When Ochako looks for it, she can see the gentle curve of pups against his clinic shirt— not quite the same way as the sudden balloon Ochako's stomach had become but noticeable if one looked for the tell-tale signs of pregnancy.

"Ah, Izuku-chan! Would you- would you like to feel the pups? They are active now, it seems they like the sun too!"

She can see the light in his green eyes grow brighter as she asks, the beginnings of what she thinks is an enthusiastic smile forming like a ghost on his lips. It's a nice smile- Ochako is gonna get him to smile for real one day.

When the other omega nods shyly, she leans back a little and lets the green-haired man approach her. She keeps her scent open and clear, broadcasting everything so that Izuku doesn't need to second guess what she's thinking. It's something she wishes others had done for her, when she first arrived at the clinic. Tsuyu has done an admirable job— but there had been no one like Ochako. No fellow omega, recovered and happy again, to talk to and laugh with.

There to had been no _'after'_ snapshot, to show her what she might be able to become.

Looking at him from this angle, he's not that much taller than her. His face is thin, cheeks a little sunken and eyes set back in his sockets, as if it's been awhile since he's slept a night through. He has little squares of freckles on his cheeks- faded but visible against pale skin. He looks… he looks beaten, tired and worn down— like every omega she sees through the clinic.

He places his hand gently on her stomach, seeming unsure of where to place his hands but when a soft kick taps against his hands, Ochako watches a breathtaking smile steal across his face. The darkness that had settled over his eyes when she first saw him lifts and for just a few moments, she sees what he _could_ be.

He's so happy, and Ochako decides that she'll do almost anything to help this omega.

By the time Ochako heads home, she's found a firm friend in the newest omega in the clinic and promises to come back after her next shift. Tsuyu smiles as she describes her day, hands her a fresh bowl of egg okayu and kneels down to massage the knots of stress in her feet, listens with a happy hum as Ochako rattles on about the sweet newcomer with eyes the colour of Tsu's hair.

She doesn't tell Tsu about the bite marks, not yet. She still feels like crying when thinks about them, how painful they would've been, and she's not quite ready to be able to tell Tsu how much this omega hurts.

Tsu tells her about the rescue operations they've been working on at the agency, laughs as she recounts the story of rescuing a cat and the face of a child in the street as she'd climbed up a wall, just as easily as a real frog would, to grab the errant feline.

Smiles as she talks about how much the other pros miss Ochako, that Kaminari has been going insane with his new patrol partner and has asked her to pass on the message of _'please, please have your pups soon so I get a decent partner again, the boss hired Mineta to fill in and he's still weiiiiird'_. Ochako ends up shaking with laughter, rolling on the couch as Tsu almost perfectly imitates the extended whine of their blond co-worker.

As Ochako curls up with her mate, hands wound gently around her stomach and remembers that blinding smile— she knows that Izuku is going to get better. She'll make sure of it.

—

 _its too quiet, far too quiet and theres no buzz and no clanking and the light is too much and i dont know where i am_

Izuku doesn't know where he is. There's too much light for it to be the concrete cell he had woken up to for years, the soft natural light of afternoon lighting up what— looks to be a hospital room. White walls and sterile furniture, the room is almost bare— spartan, he thinks the word is. The afternoon light washes the walls with a midas touch, sunset seemingly just around the corner and the light is almost dazzling, even muted by the sheer curtains.

 _i cant breathe the walls aretoofaraway i cant hide theresnowheretohide_

His head spins, breath catching in his throat and he grabs the myriad of wires and tubing attached his arms. The IV bag is clear— _but it could be drugged_ , his traitorous mind supplies in a whisper. He shifts off the bed, a series of shrill alarms blaring as he shakily detaches everything he can, wincing as the cannula in his left wrist aches with the hasty removal of the tubing.

 _they are gonna find him he has to go he has to runrunrunrunrun_

He ignores the piercing noises of the machines beside the bed, shuffles with aching legs towards the door and it takes his entire focus to yank the door open, almost losing his balance on the sterile tiled floor. He catches himself on the doorframe, looks out into the hallway to see nurses and orderlies approaching the room. Their scents are neutral, soft tangs of concern and no anger present in their pheromones— but Izuku has never fully trusted his nose, not when an alpha could smell like affection and hurt him the next moment.

A nurse in blue scrubs approaches him, making sure he can see her empty hands, and crouches down next to him— and he doesn't remember when he ended up on the floor, breathing erratic and he can't stop his mind scrambling to find an exit, an escape, _somewhere they won't find him_. The dark-haired omega nurse reaches out a hand, slowly settles it on the scarred skin of his shoulder and she seemingly ignores the flinch her touch brings.

"It's okay, you're safe.. You're at an omega clinic, there are no alphas anywhere in the medical section of this clinic. Can you tell me your full name and your birthday?"

A clinic? That explains the pungent, sterile smell of antiseptic and medical-grade bleach.

He blinks up into pale eyes and struggles to speak, voice caught in panic and he can't _think. Why are there so many people?_ The omega nurse smiles gentl, and even though the movement jolts sore muscles and makes him want jerk away, she helps him to his feet and settles him back in his bed.

He's too tired to resist, overactive mind jumping on the hushed words the nurse had given him in the hallway. _Omega clinic… no alphas.._ He winces as the cannula is adjusted, the machine beginning a familiar sequence of beeps as his data flits across the screens.

"My name is Yasuo Megumi, I'm the head nurse here at the Musutafu South Clinic for Omegas, you're safe." Her scent is open and he can't detect any intention of harm but the thought of being safe slides like oil across the turbulent sea his thoughts have become. "Do you know your full name?"

Izuku clears his throat, glances down at where his hands clutch the blanket tightly, knuckles white. He releases them with a smooth breath, lets his hands relax. "M-midoriya Izuku. July 15th."

The kind smile the nurse offers softens the lines in the middle-aged woman's face, as she notes down something on a clipboard. She ticks a few more boxes, glancing up at the medical data scrolling by on the screens, and scribbles down a few more pieces of information.

"I know this is very frightening for you, and I'm sorry that no one was in the room when you awoke. You've been here for just under a day, under sedation for medical reasons." She sits in the chair beside the bed, placing the clipboard chart back into the holder on the end of bed before she does so. "You were rescued from a property in the Kubiki district, as well as several other omegas who are here at the clinic. Several individuals on the premises were apprehended— both hero agencies and police are working closely to round up individuals who may have escaped the initial break."

She pauses, glancing down at her folded hands and sighs into the silence. Izuku doesn't know how to reply, brain reeling from the sudden knowledge of being _free._

"I'm going to speak plainly. The police want to question you, as soon as possible. We've delayed them so far, as you were under sedation and unable to give a statement. However," Yasuo-san's pale blue eyes meet his, tough lines framing the edges of her mouth, decades worth of worry lines entrenched in her face,"Now that you are awake, I wanted to check with you. We can continue to delay the police until you feel comfortable giving a statement, or you can heed the request today."

Izuku's head is spinning, through the influx of information that is hurtling through his brain and he doesn't know what he's supposed to do. But— they need a statement. "C-can… can I delay it? Just- just a day or two? This is…"

Yasuo smiles as if she understands the thoughts running through his mind and pats the side of bed where his hands lays in a professional but comforting motion. "It's all a bit too much, yeah?" Izuku nods with no small sense of shame, the tinges of a blush resting against his pale cheeks. "We can delay it as long as you need it, Midoriya-san. _You_ let us know when you're ready, and then we'll organise the interview. Your ordeal is over— now your main job is to recover. And…"

She glances over to a clock on the wall, and smiles. "It's just about dinner time— you must be hungry."

Bile burns in the back of his throat, stomach roiling and panic rises in his chest as what little he has left in his stomach rushes to the surface. Yasuo is quick to hold a spare bedpan for him, nursing instincts probably informing her it's needed before he even knew he felt sick. He dry heaves, only bile and water left to cough up, and groans as he leans back, throat feeling as though he's rubbed it down with sandpaper, or after a particularly bad client— he shoves those thoughts back to the recesses of his mind, not quite ready to think back on anything before this moment.

He nods mechanically, not trusting his voice or his stomach enough to open his mouth.

The nurse stands to dispose of the bedpan and nods as she checks the iv bags attached to the stand, seemingly satisfied. "I'll get one of the girls to drop your food by, in a few minutes and then I think it'd be best to let your body rest. We'll see if you can keep clear foods down, and go from there."

She reaches the door, before she turns back with a soft smile, examining the feeble frame outlined under the hospital sheets.. "It's going to be okay, Midoriya-san. You're safe."

By the time the door clicks behind her, Izuku has already let the tears run down his face and the sob that twists out of his chest makes relief ache within him, his shoulders heaving under its weight.

 _And thus your freedom when it loses its fetters becomes itself the fetter of a greater freedom._

The courtyard quickly becomes Izuku's favourite place in the entire clinic. While the clinic is painted in muted pastels, long corridors of beige and white tiles— the courtyard is bright and it's been so _long_ since he'd felt the warmth of the sun. He lounges there as often as he can— which means he spends up to 6 hours on his second day, curled up on the grass and soaking up as much sun as he can.

He can't shake the thought, the niggling whisper that tells him to enjoy it while he can, that this'll be the last time he enjoys it.

Summer is in full swing, and Izuku is fairly sure he'd probably sweltering under the oppressive heat, if his body wasn't already adapted to it well. Instead the summer heat is pleasantly warm, warm enough to distract him from the rumbling of his brain, thoughts far off like the echo of a train through a mountain pass. He knew they were churning away, but he could only hear the faintest echoes. It was peaceful and calm and soothing and— he knew it wouldn't last.

Nothing about this only situation can last, especially not this eerily calm feeling that steals over him as the sun reaches its zenith overhead. Nothing gold can stay, and as Izuku watches the light of the sun wash the bright walls soft shades of gold, he know what this place of all places won't last.

Kindness was just a trick, after all.

He's drawn from his spiralling thoughts by a strange omega, who sits down beside him and puts two cups of hot chocolate between them— at least, he hopes it's hot chocolate because he can't remember the last time he had something sweet.

She's obviously near full term, swollen belly distending out from her torso and the pink sweater she wears doesn't hide the bump at all. Her brown hair is cut into a soft bob, long bangs framing a wide face with cheerful eyes— and a smile that's a mile wide across her face.

She introduces herself with so much cheer Izuku feels like it's going to blow him over, stares at Uraraka burbles on, likely a stream of happiness that isn't going to wait for him. She seems to dial down the cheer a little, like someone dimmed the sun just enough that he could stare straight into it.

He can't resist the smell of chocolate wafting from the cup, and reaches for the takeaway cup.

He hardly gets time to enjoy the scent of it, when Uraraka makes a noise that shoots him back to a time he'd rather forget. He flinches, curls his back and waits—

 _Waits_

 _s_

—for a hit that never comes crashing down.

From beneath his lashes, he can see the expression of horror on her features and the shock visible in the tense edges of her body. She looks like she's seen the devil on the horizon— _oh_. She's staring at the scars, gaze locked on the valley between his shoulder and throat, the layers of bite marks that are as damning as tally marks— perhaps even more so.

As omegas, almost all of their biology contributed to their vulnerability to other's— weakness to the coercion alphas could wield like a weapon, heats that left them open and begging, the months they spent physically weakened during pregnancy. But there was at least one biological function Izuku thanked God for— mating bites, and the ability to control when they formed.

While an alpha or a beta could lay a claim or mating bite at anytime, marks that would stick around if they were deep enough— it was up to the omega to choose to allow a mating bond to form and nothing could take that choice away, not even the coercion voice some alpha would use to ensure an omega stayed submissive and compliant.

Izuku wanted to say he knew how many bites he had _adorning_ his neck and upper shoulders— but he'd lost count years ago, when it became impossible to distinguish between the individual marks as they melded into a mottled bruise that extended down his neck and across his shoulders.

In the bathroom mirror, fogged by the steam of a too-hot shower, they almost looked like unfortunate birthmarks or mundane scarring. But in the light of the sun, no one could ignore what they were.

He blinks as she apologises, just as he had opened his own to apologise for his reaction to such a simple movement and reaction. It's a reaction he's going to be getting a lot, he knows— Izuku had better learn to cope with it now.

He scans her face as she apologises, traces his way across wide eyes and everything in her expression smacks of earnest, deep-seated honesty.

He finds himself trusting this soft, round-faced woman— finds an easy, fast friendship in the kind omega. He laughs, soft at first and eventually dissolves into tears as Ochako tells tales of her school years, of going to school with budding heroes with bad hygiene habits and fussy diets. It takes moments but Izuku feels his hackles lowering, hands on the stretched belly and the soft thumping of pups below his fingers soothes something he hadn't realised burned. This is what he has to look forward to— he just imagines for a moment, his current bump stretching and growing as time goes by, the soft pressure of tiny hands and feet yearning to explore the world beyond him.

He trusts her and it terrifies him.

The fear sticks with him for hours after she leaves.

—

The next time he sees Ochako, he's been pacing in the corridor for over an hour and he's bitten all of his nails down to the quick on most of his fingers. He's tearing at the edges of his cuticles, ignoring the pain, when he feels the by-now familiar presence of the omega aide. She's standing not too far away, with her customary greeting of two cups of hot chocolate but she doesn't approach any closer.

Izuku has never had anyone who understood this particular headspace, the panic and the anxiety that claws at his chest, tears his fragile lungs into tatters. She just waits until he regains a stable breathing pattern, hands him the slightly cooled cup as he sits next to her on the bench. He's shaking like a tree in a windstorm, as if his foliage is being stripped away and he doesn't know how to stop the frantic howling of his mind.

"I have to give my statement." Izuku is amazed, quite frankly, at how flat, emotionless, and stable his voice seems in-between sips of lukewarm hot chocolate, considering the circumstances. It's sweet, just the right amount of sugar— the brunette omega is more observant than he had given her credit for. "I've been avoiding it for days. I don't want to tell them, I don't want to tell a police man and have it all become real."

Ochako sits quietly next to him, eyes seemingly far away and deep in thought. He doesn't know what else to say, only sips at his drink until it's gone and waits for the usually talkative brunette to broach the silence.

"I'll go with you. You don't have a lawyer or an official aide yet— you'll need someone to support you through the interview and make sure they don't push you too far." She turns to him, eyes fierce and Izuku can almost see the hellfire burning in them as she clasps his hands gently. "You can trust me, Izuku-chan. I'll help you."

Izuku doesn't even try to stop the burn of tears that builds in the back of his eyes, lets them run over his cheeks and he isn't sure _why_ the relief hits him like a sledgehammer in the aftermath.

He's not going into this alone anymore.


End file.
